What?
by StarCat13
Summary: Jack knows what James doesn't...Sparrington. SLASH


Title: What?  
  
Author: StarCat AKA CptJackSavvy  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean  
  
Warning: SLASH. Ye be warned! Implied sexual situations  
  
POV: Third person, Omnipresent  
  
Pairing: Sparrington AKA James Norrington/Jack Sparrow  
  
Feedback: Mail feedback to or just comment here.  
  
Series: One-shot, drabble  
  
Genre: Romance, Humour, Slash  
  
Archive: Please ask first, the Sparrington archive has permission to hold this.  
  
Disclaimer: Disney and all those people own the characters, not me. I have no money so I couldn't possibly own POTC, nor could I pay if I were sued so please don't try…  
  
Note: Not beta was used in the making of this fic. Mistakes are mine, please excuse them. This is the first fic I've written in about two years; my first POTC fic. Also, I believe has unusual formatting that won't allow for italics so will be added to equal the italics.  
  
Summery: Just a slashy drabble about Jack visiting James…kinda.  
  
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What had ever possessed him to interrogate Sparrow now? It seemed like a good idea. Capture Sparrow; get him to reveal the Black Pearl's whereabouts. James Norrington, however, hadn't considered Jack a real threat and had let his crew off for shore leave. James was regretting it now. How stupid he felt, when Sparrow stood from the chair opposite him, no longer tied down and helpless. The man really was clever; he seemed to wriggle his way out of every obstacle, including the ropes that once bond him to the Commodore's cabin chair. The interrogation had barely begun when Sparrow rose from his seat. James' eyes widened in shock.   
  
Seriously, James thought, can't that pirate keep still for one bloody minute.   
  
Norrington jumped up to stop Jack from trying what ever crazy plan the pirate might have in mind. Jack's actions were, as usual, unpredictable. You'd think that always being unpredictable would in fact make the pirate quite predictable. Apparently crazy logic didn't work for people lacking the name Sparrow. Jack (instead of heading for the door or window like any self respecting pirate that was trapped on a Navy ship would do) walked towards James. Norrington took a nervous step backward, looking longingly at his gun which leaned against the far side of his desk. So close, yet so far.   
  
"I know why you hate me," Sparrow spoke suddenly. "and it's not that I'm a pirate."  
  
"What are blathering on about Sparrow?" James shot back distractedly; still searching the room for a weapon of some sort.   
  
"I've seen it in your eyes. You hate me, because I can do what you cannot."  
  
"I don't understand you at all. I certainly have no desire to engage in any sort of piracy," James said in his usual stern voice. Though if he was to be honest with himself, his prier statement wasn't completely true. He did not want to be a pirate, but he did envy Jack in a way. Not that Norrington would even let that thought become fully formed in his mind.  
  
"I have the freedom that you crave. That's not all you crave…" Sparrow trailed off, raising his eyebrows and smiling his golden toothed smile.   
  
At this point, Jack had the Commodore back against the wall of the cabin. Norrington stood tensely and red face, hoping that the pirate in front of him might fall victim to one of the ship's more violent rocks. Norrington knew his panicked thought was in vain however. Jack moved with every wave and dip of the ship. Sparrow might have been a drunken scoundrel but he really was a sailor through and through. His sea legs were firmly attached; whether on water or land.   
  
"Why the red face, Commodore?" Sparrow asked, leaning in. James was reminded of that day on the fort wall; Sparrow's close proximity as he claimed to root for James.   
  
"I do not b…mmmmve…." What ever James had planned to say was cutoff by Sparrow's lips. Quite rude, Norrington thought irrationally; eyes widening to the size of small cannon balls.  
  
If Norrington was tense before, it was nothing compared to how he felt at that moment. You could have thrown an anchor at him and he wouldn't have flinched. The Commodore, who always had something smart to say, was suddenly speechless and frozen shock solid. All except his eyes. Norrington's emerald eyes blinked repeatedly and crossed themselves in the effort to see the man in front of him.   
  
Jack tried his best not to laugh what with his mouth being temporarily attached to a Commodore. Despite his attempts, the Navy officer could feel Sparrow's lips smirk. Thinking that Norrington needed a little loosening up, the pirate captain brought a hand up to caress the pale white neck before him. That seemed to work well.   
  
Norrington's eyes flickered shut at the soft touches being traced along his neck and jaw-line. James took a deep breath though his nose, as if to summon his courage, and kissed Jack back. Even though it was Jack who had James backed against a wall, and not the other way around; Jack let James take control of the now heated kiss. James held Jack's lower lip between his. Jack flicked his tongue out to trace James'.   
  
Norrington's eyes popped open so fast Jack almost swore he heard a sound like a rum or wine bottle being uncorked. The pleasant liquid did not follow the noise for once however. The navel man ducked the pirate's arm and plopped dazedly down on the edge of his desk; gasping for air and looking very paranoid. He dropped his head in one hand and began a mantra of, "What was I thinking? What was I thinking?"   
  
Jack gently took James' hand and pulled him to his feet.  
  
"You were thinking about yourself for once; instead of doing what everyone else wants you to do. You should do it more often, looks good on you."  
  
"B-but!" James stammered in response.   
  
"Just because society tells you what to do doesn't mean you have to listen, mate… not all the time anyway." Sparrow said smirking and shrugging.   
  
"Uh..." James started to reply but was once again interrupted by pirate lips. Jack's tongue dueled with his own, like a safer wetter form of swordplay. James snickered at that analogy, grateful that the other man didn't break the kiss to ask about the sudden humorous outburst. James' right hand was tangled in long hair and his left circled Jack's slim waist.   
  
Good thing the others are on shore, James thought offhandedly, it's going to be an interesting night.  
  
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James woke up the next morning and stretched his back casually to work the knots out. The Commodore wondered if he had lifted anything to cause such pain. That was, of course, until he remembered the previous night's events. He groaned inwardly; he knew there was a reason not to get up today. Facing his own actions wasn't going to be fun. James dropped his arm on to the empty side of the bed beside him. Instead of the usual thump of arm on blankets there was a crinkle of paper. James curiously (and with restrained excitement) grabbed the piece of parchment and read it.   
  
To my Commodore,  
  
You should let yourself  
  
have fun more often.   
  
You're good at it.  
  
Until we meet again,  
  
Captain Jack Sparrow  
  
Until we meet again? Was Sparrow hoping for another "visit" of this persuasion? And would I go along with him if he did come back? Norrington knew the answer before he even finished thinking the question. James leaned back into his pillows to have a lie in before facing the normal day ahead.  
  
Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed it. I know it's a very cliché Sparrington but blame the plot bunny that hopped on my head until I wrote it. He just wouldn't leave me alone. Since it was only the second plot bunny that had pursued me in two years, I decided to go with it. I missed writing fanfic. :-D :-P 


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